This idea is not all mine, I give the credit to HGFan 4719 who allowed me to write it for them.
I don't own The Hunger Games as always.
I look around me and see nothing but a desolate winter plain, then just past that, grey mountains that shoot up out of the ground, covered in icy peaks. How is this remotely possible? We were all sweating on the ride to the arena and now it's beyond freezing. The snow reflects the sunlight into my eyes causing them to water and I have to close them so that I can see again. When I open them again I see the countdown clock at the top of the cornucopia, it shines a dull grey against the blinding light of the snow the clock at the top reads 45 and counting down. Only 45 seconds before I have to fight for my life. I should just jump off this platform right here, then I won't have to suffer under the hands of another person. I'd die as myself, I won't be corrupted.
I remember back to the tapes of my parents' games I watched in order to mentally prepare myself for this and then to how my father had told me about the conversation on the roof. I didn't understand at the time but now, everything is brought to a new light. How he didn't want these games to change him and neither do I. I want to die as myself.
I shuffle my feet, captured in giant boots that I'm sure I would be thankful for, if I were to live long enough to make use of them, until they're at the edge of the plate then glance back up. 10 seconds remaining. It's now or never.
I lean forward several times trying to just gather the courage to jump off the plate so that I'll be blown to bits and die sooner rather than later but the strength never comes to me and I remain cemented to my plate as the gong sounds. There goes plan A, I think to myself as I jump down, grab the bag closest to me and sprint as quickly as I can through the snow to a small dip at the base of a mountain.
How many mountains are there? I ask myself before diving to get away from a spear one of the other tributes threw at me. I wrench it out of the snow and continue my sprint in the other direction of the Cornucopia as I was directed. My feet slow as I begin to tire from attempting to run through the thick layer of snow that coats the ground in a near flawless blanket. Fat flakes continue to fall slowly to the ground, catching in my hair causing what was once dark brown to be speckled with white.
There is a wind brought from somewhere that whips my hair around my face causing me to stumble on some large object under the snow. There's no saying what it is, it could be a rock, tree branch, or in a very sadistic form of showmanship, a frozen corpse.
I shake the thought from my head and push the hair from my eyes so I can see where I'm going. When I look down I see that there is a person laying at my feet, not just any person but one I know very well, Finn. He looks fine just as though he lost his balance and fell.
"I wouldn't suggest laying there." I call out over the wind hoping to be heard above it. His body relaxes and I stare at him as he rolls over to face me. His face brightens as he grins up at me. We are all wearing the same, ultra thick white coat with shoes and pants to match. They really make blend in well, I almost couldn't even see Finn laying at my feet when I looked down. "Get up before I leave you, Finn." I say stepping over him. He hops right up and we're on our way to the base of the mountain.
When he stands he's a good foot taller than me. His mop of bronze hair falls over his eyes and a bush of the same color coming off his chin. This is all understandable considering that he's at least fifteen years older than I am.
In a sick twist they eliminated the age limit but did determine that the tribes all had to be over the age of twelve. That made my brother ineligible for the reaping but since I'm sixteen I was not as fortunate. Evidently they only feel bad if they're sending in very small children.
At the base we find a large cavernous opening a few feet up. We climb in and I lay down on the floor before realizing there's stalagmites all over it. Several poke at my back and I'm forced to sit back up.
"I hope he's safe." I mutter mostly to myself but evidently Finn heard.
"Who?" He asks keeping his voice quiet as well.
"Keetan." I tell him simply. He lets out a grunt of acknowledgment and I turn to face the opening and grab my bag. Inside there's a small first aid kit, a sleeping bag, empty water bottle, and several knives, thank goodness I am good with one, my mom trained me in the three months we had to prepare. Luckily I was proficient in all the things she showed me.
"I can't believe that you only got a three. You seem like you're good at this. At least your parents would have trained you." Finn says it of the blue.
"Nope, I'm just not good at that type of thing. All I can do is distill water." I say glumly,playing along with the plan that Haymitch, my parents and I worked out. He turns back to his own bag, I didn't notice he had before, just as a cannon sounds, signaling the end of the bloodbath.
Let the games begin.